


Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

by MissMouse43



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Christmas Lights, Christmas Party, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), In fact why not the whole of season 15?, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Not Canon Compliant, Post-Series, That finale can kindly fuck right off thank you very much :), That sounds good to me, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMouse43/pseuds/MissMouse43
Summary: Cas seemed pleased to go along with whatever Dean had in mind for Christmas and Dean really wanted to make it special for him, memorable; he was going to tell Cas how he felt.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovelies! I know we're all still reeling from that dumpster fire of a finale but I hope some happy Christmas fluff can help raise some of your spirits :) This was supposed to be short and sweet but then it turned into a bit of a monster and now I'm sad its only a one-shot but, oh well. I'm just relieved to be getting something out honestly >_<
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
> (Fun fact: I had a brain fart and originally forgot to write Eileen into this story. But guess what? It was really fucking easy to put her in it. Maybe the SPN writers should take notes.)

The party was in full swing. Hunters and close friends alike from all over had gathered inside the bunker’s war room to celebrate the holiday season with the Winchesters. Sam had been a little reluctant to throw a party on Christmas Eve because, “They probably already have plans, Dean. No one will show up.” But Dean was adamant that this year they celebrate Christmas properly instead of ignoring its existence like the previous years, and Eileen actually backed Dean on this one, which was a large part of (if not all) the reason Sam conceded to his demands in the first place.

Turns out not a lot of people were out and about the night before Christmas and almost everyone on their list had shown up with warm smiles and arms full of presents for the organized gift swap later on. Dean had gone all out on the decorations. Red and green garland wrapped around the staircase banister, twinkly lights strung up around the room, holly shaped confetti sprinkled on the table along with a variety of baked goods and a punch bowl filled with eggnog that Dean definitely did _not_ spike with a couple shots of whiskey.

There were little Christmas trinkets placed particularly on every available surface, including a miniature North Pole set with Santa’s workshop that Sam had been hilariously strict about getting it _juuuust_ right _._ When Cas unknowingly put the miniature reindeer with the funny red nose at the very back of Santa’s sleigh team Sam nearly bit the poor guy’s head off. Dean made a note right after to go out and buy a copy of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer on DVD the next day.

Cas liked it. So did Jack.

And finally—the grand show stopper—a beautiful pine tree, closer to 9ft in height that Dean hand picked and sawed down in the woods out back. Dragging this sucker inside had been a bitch, and Sam chewed him out for leaving a trail of pine needles all the way down the stairs but the end result had been worth it.

Bright, twinkling lights of all different colours created a steady florescent glow, bringing the tree to life and casting colourful shadows on the twisting rows of garland twirled upwards around the tree; they were silver this time. They had to go out and buy all of the bulbs currently adorning each branch, some big, some small, some with glitter, some shaped like reindeer, elves, and Santa’s sleigh. 

While on their shopping spree Dean came across an all-year-round Christmas store that offered customizable ornaments, and Dean bought one for each of them with all their names carefully painted on.

Sam’s was the face of a cartoon moose wearing a goofy Santa hat, because _duh_. Dean found a Coke bottle ornament that he had the shop keeper paint over to look like a beer bottle instead for himself. Eileen’s insistent input landed her with an apple red bulb with an intricately painted snowflake on the front. Jack took a little longer to pin down but Dean eventually settled on a golden retriever puppy popping its head out of a stocking.

And Cas, well—how could Dean _not_ get him the baby angel painted on a dark blue bulb, stereotype complete with a halo and fluffy white wings. 

Dean thought it might be a little on the nose to place a suspiciously similar looking angel figure of Castiel on top of the tree, and after Cas had given him _that look_ after Dean had been staring up at the top of the tree for several seconds with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes during the pre-decorating stages, as if Cas could sense what he was thinking, Dean thought better of it and stowed the idea away for another year when Cas developed a sense of humour. The bulb was a compromise, really. 

The truth was Dean had ulterior motives for throwing this party. Sure, it was a Christmas party, but it was also a different kind of celebration. This was the first time Sam and Dean had made a public appearance to the hunter circuit since they retired from the life. No more big bads to worry about? No more impending apocalypses? That was something to celebrate alright.

The world was in perfect balance for maybe the first time ever and it had been a unanimous decision for the brothers to quit while they were ahead before they inevitably screwed it up again. Of course Dean wanted to see everyone and catch up, but Dean was on a mission tonight, a different kind of mission than making sure everyone was having a good time. 

This was Castiel’s first time celebrating Christmas since he made the decision to give up his grace and retire with them—or _ever_ , Dean thinks. It was wishful thinking to hope his best friend was ever offered the luxury of participating in one of humanity’s most sacred holidays. The ex-angel had caught even less breaks over the decades than both Sam and Dean combined. It was a welcomed surprise to learn that Cas was up for just about anything life as a human had to offer him, didn’t bulk at Dean’s borderline _cheeriness_ at going all out during this holiday season, handled everything that was thrown at him in stride.

Even if Cas was flexible, Dean still didn’t know how Jack convinced a former warrior of God to wear a truly ugly Christmas sweater all day; this certainly isn’t what Dean had in mind when he said Cas needed to update his human wardrobe. And yet, somehow, Cas still managed to look good in it. In a sort of adorable/dorky kind of way.

And that was _totally unfair_ if you asked Dean, because Dean could hardly take his eyes off him, was so obvious about it earlier this afternoon in the kitchen when Cas invited himself to be a backseat baker, practically perching himself on Dean’s shoulder, that Dean almost left the pumpkin pie in the oven for too long, resulting in a crispier crust than he would have liked.

But then Cas leaned in all soft and comfortable in his stupid knitted sweater and took a whiff, telling Dean how incredible it smelled, and Dean suddenly didn’t care so much about the slightly bitter taste of the crust, cared more about turning his face to hide the heat rising in his cheeks as he muttered a bashful “thank you” to the floor.

Cas seemed pleased to go along with whatever Dean had in mind and Dean really wanted to make it special for him, memorable; he was going to tell Cas how he felt. 

For the first time in a very long time Dean felt he was ready to do that, comfortable with his resolve in a way he never expected to be, never thought he deserved. It took months of internal struggles and the opportunity of having the time for that kind of major reflection for Dean to finally begin chipping away at the walls guarding his surprisingly fragile heart, figuring out what his not so tiny crush on his best friend meant for Dean as a person, mulling over all possible outcomes. 

An unspeakably mortifying—yet in the same hair’s breadth deeply cathartic—conversation with Sam almost two months ago was the catalyst Dean needed to accept that this was just the way things were, had been for a long time; his sexuality was just one part of him. It didn’t change who he was fundamentally as a person.

Dean wasn’t ashamed of who he was. How could he be when Sam was so open and accepting, waited for Dean to come to him, loved him fiercely and unconditionally? Dean saw what Sam had with Eileen—wanted that for himself. So maybe it took Dean a little longer than he would have liked to build up the courage to take the next step, but he was there now, reeling to get it all out in the open.

Dean’s so-called “plan” was actually more about the ending result than the choices he made leading up to it; he was just going to wing that part. Sure, maybe the thought of hanging mistletoe around the bunker had crossed Dean’s mind once or twice (six times) throughout the day, but in the end he decided against it, didn’t want their first kiss to feel like an obligation just in case Dean had read this wrong...

Although he was pretty sure he hadn’t with the way Sam and Claire kept giving him encouraging glances all night from across the room. Apparently they were reading something on Dean’s face that wasn’t at all subtle about what he was hoping for tonight. Dean tried not to feel self-conscious about that.

For the first hour of the party Dean kept a watchful eye on Cas, feeling something embarrassingly fond settle in his chest watching the ex-angel catch up with Claire, giving her a hug and whispering something in her ear that made Claire blush and look away, stealing a glance at Kaia talking quietly with Alex and Patience near the food table.

Somewhere between making his rounds catching up with Garth and his family, joking with Jody and Donna, and meeting Charlie’s new girlfriend, Dean lost sight of him. Sam was busy introducing Eileen to another family of hunters so there was no help there in finding the missing party-goer.

Dean weaved his way through the crowd of animatedly talking and laughing guests to find Claire and Kaia huddled up close together, looking up and admiring the tree. Dean plastered on an easy grin, greeting them with a cheerful, “Hello ladies. Having a good time?” Claire seemed startled as she turned around to face him, too wrapped up in whatever conversation the two were quietly whispering about to notice his approach.

Kaia, seemingly unfazed, grinned right back at him. “Even better when I get another glass of that eggnog into me.” She tipped the now empty cup in her hand back and forth suggestively, bringing an automatic smirk to Dean’s lips. He would totally feel smug about that if, you know, he actually had anything to _do_ _with_ it. Which he didn’t, obviously. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

“You seen Cas?” It wasn’t Dean’s most graceful pivot in conversation but hey, at least he managed to keep the eagerness in his voice down to a minimum.

Claire answered him, her face giving nothing away. “I think I saw him step outside a few minutes ago.”

Dean nodded, glanced up at the door, shuffled his feet and said, “Thanks,” before turning towards the staircase. It was time. This was really about to happen. Were his palms sweating?

“Hey, Dean?”

The ex-hunter stopped short, turned back halfway to meet Claire‘s eyes. “You have my blessing,” she said. Her lips twitched in a teasing manner, but there was also an element of sincerity to her words, like she was telling Dean she trusted him not to screw this up, trusted him to treat Cas _right_. Dean still rolled his eyes, reactionary and lighthearted, and Kaia giggled, throwing him a thumbs up as Dean cut back through the room and climbed the stairs, trying to make as stealthy as an exit as possible. He had the last minute good sense to grab his coat off the rack and tug it on before heading outside.

As soon as he was above ground the icy sting of December air nipped at his nose and cheeks. It wasn’t snowing now but there was a couple of inches still on the ground, most of which had been shovelled away for Baby’s sake. It was a quiet night; not even the music and rowdy conversations from the party could be heard outside.

It was easy enough for Dean to spot Cas leaning on the railing on his arms near the bunker entrance, gazing out at the peaceful winter’s night, a look of contentment clear in the profile of his face. Dean brings his hands up to his mouth and blows on them a couple of times to warm them up—not to, like, stall or anything—and slowly walks over, makes his way to Cas’s left side, nudges him with his elbow as Dean mirrors his lean.

“Hey,” Dean says.

Cas turns his head, earnest in his delight at Dean’s presence, evident from the crinkles around his eyes as he smiles at him. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean softly clears his throat, aims for casual. “Hell of a party going on in there. What are you doing out here?”

Cas’s lips twisted into a conspiratorial little smirk as he jutted his chin out in front of him, gave a small nod towards the city, told Dean to, “Look,” and Dean did just that.

Lights. It was all lights. No, not the lights you would expect to see coming from a city at night, these were brighter, more festive; reds and greens and whites and blues and purples and yellows all melted together in a brilliant outpouring of colours blanketing the city. Even from a distance Dean could make out the rows of houses and buildings proudly displaying their Christmas lights for all to see. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t seen anything like this before, but there was something innately beautiful about the picture it painted. Dean suspected the current company might have a hand in that as well.

Dean lets out a low whistle, says, “Okay. One point you,” hearing Cas hum softly in agreement next to him.

The conversation trickles out for a moment giving them time to take it all in, then, Cas speaks up again, sounding louder than he actually was in contrast to the stillness surrounding them. “It’s nice isn’t it? Having everyone together like this.”

Dean sighs, the sound coming out somewhat relieved. “Yeah. Feels kinda normal. Like all the shit we went through was worth it in the end.”

“To have this? Absolutely.”

Dean doesn’t let himself ponder too long on what all ‘this’ could entail. That sort of wishful thinking might just do him in before the night was even through. “What about you?” Dean tries shifting the attention back onto something a little less stupefying, but just as significant in importance to Dean. “Does celebrating your first Christmas live up to all the hype?”

Cas looks at him then, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bluer than the rare privileges Dean has had from seeing them up this close in the past. “I’m very happy,” Cas tells him quietly, the volume in his voice in no way undermining the headiness of his confession.

Dean melts a little where he stands, lets their arms press into each other, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m glad,” Dean admits just as quietly, swallows past the lump in his throat and gains a bit more confidence as he adds, “Happiness—it’s a good look on you.”

“Thank you.”

A faint laugh falls from Dean’s lips. Of course Cas would be the kind of guy to thank Dean for his thinly veiled attempt at flirting. “No problem.”

“Not for that,” Cas corrects him, and Dean’s suddenly puzzled. There’s something akin to amusement in those blue eyes for a fleeting moment at Dean’s reaction before something more serious takes over. Dean is hopelessly mesmerized by his next worlds. “For letting me stay here with you in the bunker. I want you to know... there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

And that was the moment, maybe stupidly, Dean realized that Cas had been waiting for him to catch up, waiting this whole damn time—would probably wait for Dean _forever._ And that was… yeah. That was something else. He didn’t have to, though, and that was kind of the whole point. Licking his bottom lip out of nervous habit, Dean finally manages to say out loud what he should have said months ago— _years_ ago.

“Want you here. Wanted that for a long time.”

Cas stares at him, eyes widening ever so slightly, clearly touched by Dean’s admission, but he recovers quickly, mirth shining in his expression as he says, “That would have been nice to know.”

And Dean wants to kiss him then— _holy_ _crap_ does he ever—but Cas beats him to it, which makes sense, Dean thinks. Since the moment they met in that barn all those years ago Cas has been surprising him, challenging him. That’s one thing (among an endless list of others where Cas is concerned) Dean hopes he never loses. It was just a light graze of lips; there was almost no pressure behind it at all—tentative, imploring—barely considered a kiss, and yet so achingly sweet Dean felt his head go fuzzy for a few seconds afterwards, impulsively chases Castiel’s lips for another quick peck when Cas starts to pull away.

The two are grinning at each other now and Dean feels so light on his feet a giddy little laugh bubbles up from his chest and spills out of him. “What’s so funny?” Cas asked around a chuckle of his own, Dean’s display of elation clearly infectious.

Dean dipped his head with a smirk, bumped his forehead against Cas’s, teased, “I guess I didn’t need the mistletoe after all.”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully, happy to play along. “I think that’s a tradition I would still like to participate in. It does, however, require a partner. If you’re interested?”

Oh, Dean was interested. He was _very_ interested.

“Well, we better get to practicing, then. You know, just so we get it right the first time with the real deal.”

Cas’s voice dropped an octave, words whispered just a breath away from Dean’s mouth. “I like your thinking.”

Maybe it was the high of the party, the sentimental gooeyness of the holidays, or maybe it was just because Dean was so goddamn happy to have him here—was feeling sappy, murmured, “I like _you_ ,” against Cas’s lips.

“About time,” Cas breathes, then fully seals their lips together, silencing Dean’s punched out huff of laughter. As appealing as standing here and making up on lost time making out with Cas was, Dean had a tactfully better idea that didn’t involve either one of them freezing their asses off. When Dean was the one to pull back this time there was a brief look of irritation on Castiel’s face, impatience bleeding through, greedy for more.

Yeah. That was a look Dean could get used to.

Dean reached over and linked his fingers together with Cas’s, felt the chill of the other man’s skin against his palm, brought his hand up to his lips so he could kiss the back of Cas’s hand just because he could, let Cas’s adoring smile warm him up from the inside out. Dean leaned back from the railing, gave Cas’s hand a light tug. “Come on,” he urged. 

Dean’s request was met with a look of bemusement. “Where are we going?” Cas asked, not an outright refusal, just seeking further information. Dean’s heart did a pathetic little jump in his chest. Dean guessed that was another thing he was going to have to get used to, didn’t see that feeling leaving him anytime soon now that they were— _this_.

“Let’s take a drive. Get a look at those lights of yours up close.”

Castiel went willingly as Dean guided him away, party all but forgotten. Dean felt a firm squeeze to his hand, looked back at his new beginning, heart swelling, felt a snowflake land on his eyelash as Cas told him, “That sounds wonderful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! I wish you all a safe and Happy Holidays <3
> 
> As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
